


A Light in Spring

by OfPencilsandPenguins



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: "This Doesn't Have To End", Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, SnowBarry - Freeform, Sunset/Sunrise, flower crown, sand, simplysnowbarry2018, snowbarryspring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfPencilsandPenguins/pseuds/OfPencilsandPenguins
Summary: Storms, chocolate, sunsets, Spongebob, drinking, flower crowns, and Caitlin. Barry didn't know what he was expecting when Cisco looped him into his spring break antics, but it didn't look like this. High School AU. Written for #snowbarryspring2018.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was initially supposed to be a fluffy oneshot for the #simplysnowbarry2018 challenge on tumblr, but it evolved into a much bigger project. Hopefully it still meets the requirements of the prompt.  
> Shout out to the talented, fantastically-helpful eccacia for her constant help and dedication to making sure this project isn't awful. Thank you so much!  
> Feel free to leave feedback, positive or negative. I appreciate all of it. I hope you enjoy!

Barry wraps his uneaten sandwich in plastic, stuffing it back into the lunch bag. He’s not really feeling the ham and cheese.

“Ay, you gonna finish that?”

Cisco’s hand is already stretching toward the bag. Barry narrows his eyes but lets him take it nonetheless. He devours it so quickly that Barry wonders if he even got all the plastic off first. Some of it’s probably gonna end up in his digestive tract.

“Jesus, dude, chew before you swallow.”

His advice falls on deaf ears as Cisco burps and tosses the plastic into a nearby trash can.

“Hey,” he says after wiping his mouth. “You ready for spring break?”

“Definitely. Can’t wait to sleep in till noon and not leave my room for a week.”

Despite the sarcasm lacing his words, Barry is genuinely pumped to do just that. He needs sleep more than he needs some extravagant vacation.

“Funny. What about the beach trip?”

“What _about_ the beach trip?”

He blinks.

“What do you mean what about the beach trip?”

“What do you mean what do I mean what about the beach trip?”

“What do you—” Cisco shakes his head. “Barry!”

“Cisco!” he exclaims with disinterest.

“You know the beach trip is next week, right?”

Barry rolls his eyes. Of course he knows. Every student in Central High knows. The beach trips are legendary, epic, magnificent.

And they’re completely unappealing to Barry. Call him crazy, but he doesn’t want to drink himself to sleep for two days, or start a hundred-man fist fight on the beach, or snort enough cocaine to lift a car, or have sex with seven of his classmates.

Not that there’d even be opportunity to do those things. The stories would say otherwise, but as far as he’s concerned they’re all lies propagated by easily-excitable freshman.

“Yes, Cisco, I know,” he states matter-of-factly. “I’m not going.”

Cisco slams his fists on the table, always the melodramatic one.

“Bartholomew Henry Allen, what in the _hell_ do you mean you’re not going?”

“That,” he says. “I mean that.”

Cisco facepalms.

“Dude, come on! You can’t just bail on _the trip_!” He says the words like they’re some kind of sacred, biblical phrase. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to drink and make poor decisions.”

“Not like this!” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, look, you can drink away your midlife crisis all you want, but that’s not what this trip is about. This is your opportunity to run away for a week! Shirk all responsibilities! Live in the moment!”

“Exactly why I don’t want to go.” Cisco groans. “Crazy drinking and meaningless sex aren’t fun.”

“Spoken like a drinkless virgin.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“You’ll get it when you get there,” he continues. “Just gotta feel the vibe.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are. Especially when a certain handsome bachelor needs your help.”

Barry sighs.

“What do you need now?”

A wide grin spreads across Cisco’s face.

“I’m so glad you asked.” He throws an arm around Barry, who attempts to squirm away. “Because this next week could be the greatest week of my entire life.”

Barry thinks about it for a few moments.

“Isn’t that kind of sad?”

“What? No!” Cisco shakes his head. “No, it’s going to be amazing is my point! Why do you always miss the point?”

A silence follows and Cisco looks expectantly at him. Barry rolls his eyes.

“Okay, fine, I’ll bite. Why will be amazing?”

“You, my friend, are going to again fill the role of greatest wingman in the history of winged-men.”

Barry groans.

“Not this again, Cisco.”

“No, no, it’s different this time, I promise!”

He narrows his eyes.

“Last time I was your wingman, Snart almost killed me! He thought I was trying to get with his sister!”

Barry swears he has a permanent bruise on his stomach from when Mick and Leonard beat the hell out of him. He thanks his lucky stars they’re in juvie, far away from his precious, delicate stomach.

“Actually that was two times ago. Kendra was the last one, remember?”

Ah yes, the time when Kendra’s ex-boyfriend came after Barry because he thought he was trying to get with her.

(Noticing a pattern yet?)

Barry stares blankly at him.

“Alright, sorry. I owe you one for taking the fall for me with Carter and Rory and Snart.”

“More like you owe me five. Or ten. Or a hundred-thousand.”

“But I’m not trying to get with Lisa or Kendra anymore! This is different!”

Barry raises an eyebrow.

“I’m going after Gypsy!”

He blinks, not even attempting to match Cisco’s overly-enthusiastic expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No. Way. In. Hell—”

“Oh come on, _Barrryyyyy_ , please?”

“Also she hates being called that. And I’m pretty sure it’s a race thing too, so maybe don’t use it, like, ever.”

“Gypsy can mean a nomadic or free-spirited person!”

Barry stares at him for a few moments.

“Have you been Googling things related to her?”

“Pretty please with cherries on top?”

Barry exhales heavily, rubbing his temples.

“Okay, first of all, you know her dad is in jail, right? You want him to come after me because he thinks I’m hitting on his daughter.

Cisco rolls his eyes.

“Come on, there’s no way that’ll happen. And I’m sure he’s in jail for something totally chill. Like tax fraud or money laundering or something.”

“How is tax fraud… y’know, I’m not even gonna touch that one.” He shakes his head. “Second of all, if her dad doesn’t kill me, _she_ will. Or maybe she’ll kill you. Or both of us at the same time.”

“Ridiculous. Who could kill this face?”

“Plenty of people,” Barry is tempted to say, but he holds back. “Remember when she was suspended after she started that fist fight?”

“Everybody makes mistakes.”

“Or when she vandalized the school?”

“Postmodern art.”

“Or when she set a trash can on fire?”

“Art takes many forms.”

“Or the second time she got suspended after she started _another_ fist fight?”

Cisco pauses.

“That’s kinda… beside the point.”

Barry slaps a palm to his forehead.

“Cisco, how is _any of that_ beside the point? I am gonna die. You are gonna die. She’s gonna kill both of us, and she’s going to enjoy it.”

“She will not and—” His eyes go wide. “My heart be still, there she is.”

Barry follows his gaze and finds Cynthia stomping through the lunchroom holding a brown paper bag. Or perhaps she’s just walking normally. Barry can’t really tell; everything she does is sort of stompy in a way.

“You’re on your own,” Barry says.

“Come on, I’ll do anything for your help.”

“Okay. Stop trying to make me come on the trip.”

“What? No, that doesn’t… Barry! That defeats the purpose of asking for your help!”

“You said you’d do anything.”

“Why does Cisco need help?” Caitlin’s voice startles both of them. Barry perks up. He was concerned when he didn’t see her in chemistry. Although it’s not unusual for her to miss class periods. Sometimes she skips whole days. Not that anyone can blame her after what happened.

Cisco’s face is immediately awash with concern. “Hey, Caity, you okay? I didn’t see you in homeroom. Everything alright?” Caitlin’s expression stiffens and Barry sighs. He knows Cisco means well but his lack of tact isn’t what she needs right now. She just needs normalcy and Cisco seems to think that constantly asking what’s wrong will help.

“I’m fine,” she says quietly.

Cisco opens his mouth to continue but Barry jumps in.

“Cisco is trying to get with Cynthia.”

Caitlin’s nose scrunches up in disgust and Barry smiles.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” she says.

“See? I told you.”

Cisco rakes his hands through his hair.

“Come, don’t gang up on me! I need help, not hatred!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” Barry says.

“Don’t leave me hanging. What kind of best friends would leave me to my fate like that?”

“So you admit she would totally kill us?”

“Not the point, Barry!”

Caitlin chuckles, running a hand through her hair. Her startlingly-short hair. Barry does a double-take as the difference in her appearance finally registers in his head.

“Hey, you got a haircut.” Her eyes drop as she continues twisting and turning her curls. “I like it.”

“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile.

“Caitlin,” Cisco butts in, “please tell Barry he needs to be my wingman.”

She turns to Barry. “Barry, you need to be Cisco’s wingman.”

“I disagree.”

She turns back to Cisco. “Well, I tried.”

Cisco lets out an undignified noise.

“Okay, how about this. If things don’t work out with Cynthia, I’ll pay you fifty bucks.”

Barry’s eyes widen.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Fifty bucks. Just come on the trip with me.”

Cisco stretches out his hand.

Barry purses his lips. Fifty bucks doesn’t sound bad. But going on the trip doesn’t sound good. He knows himself, and he knows how impulsive and thoughtless he can be. Mix that with alcohol and partying and peer-pressure and he knows he could easily get into trouble.

Then again, the same goes for Cisco. Possibly even more so. He’s more impulsive, more thoughtless, and, arguably even worse, he’s 100% susceptible to ‘the vibe.’ He’ll get caught up in the moment and do some stupid shit and will probably regret it forever. Unless Barry’s there to keep him straight.

If not for his own enjoyment, Barry owes it to Cisco not to let him end up dead or in jail. Plus there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that Cynthia will be into him, so that fifty bucks is as good as his.

“Alright.” He finally shakes Cisco’s hand. “Deal.”

Cisco pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!” He gets up abruptly. “Alright, I will see you at 6:30 AM sharp on Monday.”

“What? 6:30? Cisco!”

But he’s already running off in the direction Cynthia was walking earlier. Barry sinks into his seat and sighs. Caitlin smiles coyly.

“The beach trip?”

He nods. “He thinks she’ll be super into him because of ‘the vibe’ or whatever but apparently I’m somehow necessary to his plan.”

“Keep me updated. I’m curious just how poorly thing are going to go.”

“You could always come.” She gives him an incredulous look. “I mean, it would be nice to have some company.”

“You’ll have Cisco.”

Barry laughs dryly. “You know how he gets. The only time he’s gonna talk to me is when he needs me to kiss his ass. I’m gonna be on my own whenever he’s following Cynthia around.”

“Good point.”

“So you’ll come then?”

“I have college essays to write.”

Barry rolls his eyes.

“You can do that when you get back. They’re not gonna run away or anything.” She smirks. “And don’t you wanna be there for ‘the greatest week of Cisco’s life?’”

“It would certainly be an interesting viewing experience.”

“That’s the spirit.”

She looks at him quizzically.

“Why are you trying so hard to convince me? _You_ don’t even want to go.”

“You’re good company,” he says. “It would make it a little more bearable to have you there.”

“Only a little?”

He grins.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

They sit in easy silence for a few moments.

“So will I see you at 6:30 AM sharp in Cisco’s driveway on Monday?”

She flips a page in her textbook, the shy smile returning to her face.

“We’ll see.”

 


	2. On the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to eccacia, packerfansam, Purpleyin, and shyesplease for reviewing!

Barry is proud of himself.

He managed to talk Cisco from 6:30 AM all the way to 7:00 PM.

_ “Why should we wake up early? It’s spring break.” _

_ “The faster we get there the better.” _

_ “What is the beach gonna do? Disappear if we don’t get there fast enough?” _

_ “Maybe!” _

It took a lot of argumentation, but eventually Barry convinced him. Provided, of course, he bring gummy worms.

_ “Five bags.” _

_ “One.” _

_ “Six bags.” _

_ “One.” _

_ “Three bags.” _

_ “Two.” _

_ “Deal.” _

So here they stand, a little before 7:00, in Cisco’s driveway. Cisco’s chewing is loud and obnoxious as he scarfs down two or three gummy worms at a time. Barry tries to ignore it, instead focusing on the sun’s slow descent over the horizon. It’s pretty. Barry hopes it’s some kind of good omen.

“ _ Uuuugh _ , where’s  _ Caaaaaaaaaitliiiiin _ ?” Cisco whines between bites.

“It’s not even 7:00 yet.”

“Yeah, but you know her. Always five minutes early to everything.”

“Maybe she made the wise decision to bail on the trip,” Barry snarks. She had yet to contact either of them to confirm or deny whether she was coming. Cisco, however, still holds out hope. “I should’ve done that.”

Cisco groans.

“You’re really killing the vibe here, man.”

“What vibe? There’s no vibe. It’s 7:00 PM and we’re standing in your driveway waiting to go on a stupid, waste-of-time-and-money trip.”

“6:57, actually. Weren’t you the one who just told me it’s not even 7:00?” Barry is filled with the urge to backhand him. “And hey, you’re already here. Might as well make the most of it.”

Barry grumbles something incoherent before a thought crosses his mind.

“Cisco, did you book the hotel?”

He scoffs.

“Of course, what do you take me f—”

“No, I mean when did you get us a room?”

He thinks about it for a few seconds.

“Like a month ago? Maybe two? Always good to get in early.”

Barry stares at him in confusion.

“I didn’t agree to come until last week.”

Cisco rolls his eyes.

“Like there was ever a chance you would say no.”

“Y’know, every time you open your mouth I’m tempted to grab my bags and drive home.”

“Too late! We shook on it!”

Before their rapport can continue, Caitlin’s baby blue sedan pulls into the driveway next to them. Cisco jumps out and down in jubilation, flailing his arms instead of waving. Caitlin offers a half-smile as she steps out of her car.

“See, I told him you would wise up!” He wraps his arms around her so tightly she looks like she’s struggling to breathe.

“Cisco — ow — personal space,” she says tightly. He lets her go with a goofy grin.

“I’ll get your luggage.”

Barry steps over and a smile spreads across both of their faces.

“I see you’ve come to watch the show,” he teases.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you for telling me about the time change. I would have rather not shown up here at 6:30 in the morning for no reason.”

“Of course. Thank you for not leaving me to rot in the sun all by myself.”

“Well I can always type my essays on the beach.”

Barry gasps.

“Okay, first off, using any electronic devices on the beach should be, like, a Class A felony. Do you  _ want  _ sand rattling around in there forever?” She chuckles. “And second off, you’re planning to do academic work on the beach trip?”

“What’s wrong with multitasking?”

“Everything if the tasks are incompatible.”

“Hey, you should be glad I’m coming at all.”

His grin turns honest.

“I am.”

There’s a beat and then they lean in for a hug. Theirs is less aggressive than Cisco’s, and more meaningful. When they pull away Barry notices dark circles under her eyes. He does his best to mask his worry.

“Did you sleep okay?”

She shrugs, eyes darting away.

“Not particularly.”

He can’t hold back his frown.

“Alright, just waiting for one more passenger!” Cisco exclaims, apparently having jumped out of thin air. He throws his arms around them and Barry hopes Caitlin didn’t hear the manly squeak he just let out.

“Jesus,” Barry breathes.

“Some warning would be appreciated next time,” Caitlin adds, holding a hand over her heart.

“What, you couldn’t hear my—oh, there she is!”

And just as quickly as he appeared he’s gone. He jogs down the driveway towards a newly-arrived black truck and Barry and Caitlin share a look of confusion.

“One more passenger?” she asks. He shrugs. Cisco hadn’t mentioned another passenger. Then again this whole trip was sort of a last-minute, impromptu affair to begin with.

And then Barry’s eyes widen, because out of the car appears Cynthia.

“What the hell?”

The man did it.

Barry can hardly believe it but Cisco managed to convince Cynthia to come to the beach with  _ him _ .  _ IN HIS CAR _ .

Insane. Unprecedented. Impossible. Although when has Cisco ever  _ not  _ been those things?

His romantic history is frankly unfair. While Barry was busy getting the shit kicked out of him by Snart and Rory, Cisco and Lisa were making out in the science room. And when Carter was threatening to stab Barry to death, where was Cisco? Oh right, bringing flowers and heart-shaped chocolates to Kendra’s house.

And now he’s convinced the scariest, tough-as-nails-est girl in their entire school to take a four-hour drive to the beach with him? How in the hell does he keep getting so lucky? Is he some kind of wizard?

Not to be mean, but let’s be real, Cisco isn’t necessarily the archetypical ladies’ man.

Barry groans, however, at the realization that he no longer has shotgun. This also means he won’t be in control of the music, which leaves them with three likely outcomes:

A: Cisco attempts to play what he thinks is ‘cool people music’ in some vain attempt to impress Cynthia.

B: Cisco gives Cynthia control of the aux cord, leaving her to play whatever-the-hell kind of music she listens to. Likely death metal.

C: Cisco foregoes playing music at all, and instead tries to flirt with Cynthia the entire ride. This has its own separate sub-outcomes:

1: Cynthia gets sick of his incessant chattering and forces him to drop her off at a bus stop. This is the ideal sub-outcome.

2: Cynthia gets sick of his incessant chattering and eventually puts in headphones to drown him out. Cisco, Barry, and Caitlin are left in uneasy silence for the next three and a half hours.

3: Cynthia gets sick of his incessant chattering and grabs the steering wheel, swerving them into oncoming traffic to end their collective suffering.

Any outcome/sub-outcome will be uncomfortable and/or cringey, and Barry is regretting being here more and more with each passing second.

Caitlin brings him out of his thoughts.

“How awkward do you think the next four hours are going to be?”

“On a scale from one to ten?”

She nods. He’s tempted to say eleven, but the optimist within him wins out.

“A solid eight.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Only eight?”

“Maybe it’ll be entertaining.”

They share a smirk as Cisco and Cynthia approach. He’s scrambling to keep up with her as she stomps toward the car.

Alright, maybe that  _ is  _ just how she walks.

“Hey guys,” Cisco says, clearly trying not to sound nervous.

(He’s failing.)

“You know Cynthia, right?”

“Hey Caitlin,” Cynthia says, much to Barry’s surprise. He didn’t think they were friends. Or that they even knew each other. It’s not like they walk in the same social circles.

Actually, as far as Barry knows, Cynthia doesn’t walk in  _ any  _ social circles. 

Cailin offers a smile.

“Hey Cynthia.”

“Hi,” Barry says with a little wave. She nods at him.

“Alright!” Cisco claps his hands together as Cynthia loads her luggage into the trunk. “Who’s ready for the beach?”

HIs excitement is not at all reciprocated.

“I’ll take your lack of reaction to mean yes. Let’s go!”

They load into the car, he and Cynthia in the front and Barry and Caitlin in the back as predicted. The car starts and pulls out of the driveway and Barry waits in uneasy silence for Cisco to make his move. He frankly doesn’t know which of the outcomes (or sub-outcomes) would be worse.

“So, Cynthia,” Cisco says, “you wanna be the jam master?”

Barry slumps into his seat and sighs. Perhaps not as bad as dying in a fiery crash, but still annoying.

Cynthia stares blankly at him. “What?”

“Music. You, uh, wanna pick the music?”

“Alright.” She pulls out her phone. “Where’s the aux cord?”

Barry reaches for it. Despite his reluctance to hear Cynthia’s music, he’s not above being a little helpful. Evidently Caitlin shares the same sentiment, as they both end up grabbing the other’s hand instead of the cord. They share an awkward, apologetic look.

“Uh, I—”

“I’ll just—”

Barry wonders if her face is heating up as much as his.

They both pull their hands away and lean back into their respective seats. Cisco gives Barry a pointed look in the rearview.

“Uh, Barry? Aux cord?” His voice is tight. This time Barry is the only one to move, grabbing it from its position between the seats and placing it in Cynthia’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Barry hums a ‘you’re welcome’ and an uneasy silence fills the car.

Evidently those few seconds of awkward are too much for Cisco, who tries to engage the passengers in some small talk.

“You guys ready for Mr. Wells’ mega essay?”

“Seriously?” Cynthia asks. “We’re on our way to the beach and you’re talking about essays.

Cisco looks panickedly at Barry in the mirror, and he shrugs. Cisco takes a deep breath.

“Well, in my defense, he assigned it over spring break.”

Cynthia looks up from her phone.

“I thought teachers weren’t supposed to do that.”

“They’re not. But he kinda found a way around it.”

She raises an eyebrow and Barry smirks.

_ Way to go, man. Just converse. Be normal. Don’t say anything stupid. _

He hopes Cisco is receiving the brain waves he’s sending.

“He told us there’s a massive test due next Tuesday and he gave us all the guidelines and requirements and the rubric and stuff. He said he can’t tell us to start working until Monday but it would” —Cisco does his best snooty, scientific, Harrison Wells voice—“‘ _ behoove you all to get started ahead of time, lest you risk dropping an entire letter grade because of an ill-prepared assignment _ .’ Or something.”

Cynthia chuckles. “That old man is such a hardass. When I had him for chem he gave me detention like ten times.”

“Didn’t you set something on fire?”

“Several somethings, actually.”

“Damn, girl, I know you’re hot but that’s a little excessive.”

Barry almost facepalms. It was going so well and Cisco just  _ had  _ to drop that bomb of corny, awkward, and unfunny right into the middle of the conversation.

But Cynthia laughs — genuinely  _ laughs  _ — at it. Cisco glances at him in the mirror and Barry just kind of blinks. He’s definitely a wizard.

Cynthia finally picks out a song and, to Barry’s surprise, it’s not death metal. Nor is it something hardcore or scary or stompy. Soft 50s diner pop begins playing through the speakers.

He and Caitlin exchange a surprised expression and Cisco gives Cynthia a look.

“Problem with my music?”

“Not at all. Just not what I expected.”

She smirks.

“I’m full of surprises.”

The song continues and Cynthia begins singing along. She has a surprisingly-pleasant voice, too.

“Wow girl, you’ve got hella pipes.”

She stops singing, giving him a look.

“Keep it in your pants, Cisco.”

“If you insist.”

Barry’s not sure whether to be proud of him for keeping his cool or if he should feel sick, because wow that interaction was vomit-inducing.

“Barry?” Caitlin asks.

“What’s up?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a pair of earbuds, would you?”

He digs through his hoodie pocket, pulling out a tangled mess of black and red.

“Is 50s pop not your jam?” he asks as he untangles it. She shakes her head.

“Not particularly.” He hands over the ear buds. “I would also not like to hear  _ that  _ conversation progress any further.”

They share a look of disdain.

“You and me both.”

She plugs in one headphone and hits play, nodding her head back and forth a little.

“So what  _ is  _ your jam?”

She quirks an eyebrow.

“You said you don’t like 50s music. What does Caitlin Snow listen to? The press demands to know!”

She chuckles.

“Music.” Her tone isn’t snarky or harsh. If anything it’s timid.

“Oh, really?” he teases. “Care to share?”

A blush slowly creeps across her features.

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

Oh  _ now  _ he’s curious.

“Pinky promise.” He extends his pinky and she, after a few moments of trepidation, loops hers in it. She moves over to the middle seat, as the cord isn’t long enough for them to comfortably share from too far away. Barry puts in an earbud and leans closer to her.

Of all the things he expected Caitlin to listen to, disco wasn’t even on the list. He expected something surprising, like maybe gangster rap, or awful country music, or tribal music, or some other random-ass genre. Just not disco. Honest, legit, deader-than-a-day-old-mayfly disco. Barry can’t help his massive grin.

Caitlin’s blush burns brighter and she looks embarrassed.

“Hey, I’m not laughing,” he says, poking her good-naturedly. She looks down, pursing her lips, and he feels a twinge of guilt. “Come on, this is no time for pouting. How can you pout with this playing?”

She doesn’t look up and he starts snapping to the rhythm and bobbing his head. She raises an eyebrow and he starts swaying, knocking against her shoulder every other beat. She bites her lip to suppress a smile and he starts headbanging like he’s listening to death metal.

“Oh yeah, this is my jam!”

His groove is only interrupted when she bursts into a fit of giggles.

“Oh my god,” she says between laughs. He feigns hurt.

“I thought we pinky promised! No laughing!”

“If I recall correctly,  _ you  _ were the only one to make that promise.” He feigns a glare now. “And you broke that.” She prods him playfully.

“Ow, I didn’t even”—she keeps poking him—“okay, fine, I’m sorry. Are we even now?”

“I suppose.” A teasing smile graces her features.

The song fades and switches and Barry puts his groove to rest.

“So, what’s  _ your  _ ‘jam,’ then?” she asks. He shrugs.

“I like a little bit of everything, I guess. Don’t have a favorite genre, really.”

“Eclectic,” she says. He hesitates before nodding, not 100% sure he knows the word’s meaning. “It’s nice to have a wide variety of music to listen to.” He nods again, this time confidently. “Would you like to be the… ‘jam master?’”

There’s a pause as both of their faces scrunch up.

“Wow, that’s a cringy phrase,” he says.

“Agreed. My sincerest apologies.”

“Apologies accepted. And are you sure?” He resumes his groove. “I’m diggin’ this vibe.”

She chuckles again before unplugging the headphones.

“It only seems fair. Your headphones, your music.”

He pulls his phone out and plugs them in, scrolling through his playlist. His thumb hovers over the play button.

“So, uh, are we done laughing at each other’s taste in music?”

“Why do you ask?”

His expression goes serious.

“Yes or no, Caitlin?”

“Yes. Why?”

He hits play and a drumline starts, followed by arguably the most famous saxophone line in recorded history. Or at least internet meme culture history.

She blinks at him.

“Barry.”

“Yes?”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

She shakes her head, smiling bemusedly.

And so they listen to Careless Whisper, along with all the other good, bad, and ugly songs on Barry’s list. Call Me Maybe plays as the sun sets. They boost the volume of Africa when Cisco and Cynthia get progressively flirtier. They even forego the only bathroom stop to finish rocking out to Bohemian Rhapsody.

They’re finishing You Belong With Me as Cisco pulls into the hotel parking lot.

“Wow,” Barry says. “That was a lot shorter than I expected.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Caitlin says, smiling as she removes the earbud. Barry puts his phone down and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Yes it does.”

“Alright my friends, let’s get wild!” Cisco jumps out of the car and runs around back to open the trunk. Barry and Caitlin share a look of confusion.

“Get wild?” she asks.

“It’s like 11:30. This is not wild time.”

“Any time is wild time if you try hard enough,” Cynthia says with a wink, jumping out of the car and following in Cisco’s footsteps.

“Can we just stay in here?” Barry asks. Caitlin shrugs.

“He’ll probably physically drag us if we don’t get out in the next few seconds.”

They exit into the nighttime heat of the beach town. Barry fans himself, already feeling his palms sweating. He slips out of his hoodie and stuffs it in his bag.

“Goddamn, it’s hot here,” Cynthia mutters, holding a travel bag in her hands.

“Yeah, because it’s totally not that leather jacket you refuse to take off,” Cisco snarks.

She raises an eyebrow.

“You trying to get me to strip for you, Ramon?”

He smirks.

“What if I was?”

Barry’s nose scrunches up in disgust.

Cynthia shrugs, unzipping the jacket and throwing it over her shoulder. She gives Cisco a pointed look before strutting off towards the hotel. Barry’s fairly confident the strutting is purposeful.

“I think I’m in love,” Cisco says as soon as she’s out of earshot. Barry slaps him on the back of the head. “Ow, come on!”

“No, you come on.”

“No,  _ you  _ come on!”

“No,  _ you _ —”

Caitlin rolls her eyes, walking off with her own bags in hand. Cisco and Barry follow in tow, still bickering like 5-year-olds. They only stop when the automatic doors slide open and they’re slapped in the face by the hotel’s beautiful air conditioning.

Check-in happens without a hitch. Barry and Cisco get their room a short walk from the lobby. Caitlin, having booked late, ends up on the third floor. Cynthia refuses to tell anyone where she’s staying. Or, rather, refuses to tell Cisco. Not like Barry or Caitlin were asking.

Barry drops his bags on the floor, taking the bed closest to the window. He basks in the A/C a little because Cynthia’s right, this town is town is  _ hot _ .

“I’m freaking out!” Cisco exclaims, pacing in a U around Barry’s bed.

“Why are you shouting?”

“She’s so scary!” He rakes his hands through his hair roughly.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve known that for a while now.”

“I feel like she’s gonna kill me in my sleep and I dunno I’m kinda into that but I dunno if she’s into  _ me  _ but I wanna make out with her so frickin’ bad and god if she’s into me I can’t even tell you the things I would do to—”

“Yeah, no, you’re right, you can’t tell me so please don’t.” Barry shakes his head. “What are you talking about? She’s obviously into you. You were disgustingly smooth.” Cisco stops pacing for a moment. “To clarify, I mean disgustingly as in it made me want to vomit. But for real, you did good.”

“I was just going on impulse! I was feeling the vibe, y’know?”

Barry stares at him blankly and he groans in exasperation.

“Okay so you know when you’re tryna make the moves on a hottie and she’s vibing with it and you just get into this zone and you don’t know what you’re saying but you get all confident?”

“Be honest with me, what do you  _ think _ the answer to that question is going to be?”

“Okay, whatever, but even if I’m doing good what if she’s not into it? What if she’s just having fun?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?’

Cisco takes a seat on the bed, sighing.

“I mean, yeah… yeah?”

Barry gives him a look.

“Cisco.”

“Yes,” he says confidently. “I wanna have a good spring break.” He sighs. “I just don’t wanna mess it up, y’know? It’s the only one we’ve got.”

Barry sits up and puts a hand on Cisco’s shoulder.

“Then just keep feeling that vibe, man. You were doing great.”

Cisco looks at him hopefully.

“You really think so?”

“Of course. You’ve got this. Just keep being smooth.”

“Got it. Don’t be myself.”

“What? No, be yourself. Just be smooth.”

Cisco looks at him sideways.

“How can I be both things? You’re asking me to be Schroedinger’s Cisco, here.”

Barry hits him lightly.

“Stop hitting me!”

“Just don’t overthink it. Do your thing.” Barry chuckles. “Your gross, disgusting, totally-not-PG thing. Caitlin and I will be laughing and/or vomiting from the shadows.”

Cisco gives him a look he can’t really place.

“What?”

He chuckles.

“Nothing.”

“Alright then.”

They return to unpacking in silence. Barry lays his clothes out on the table opposite the beds, while Cisco sprawls most of his stuff on his bed haphazardly.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go for a swim with Gypsy. Wanna come?”

“This late? You’re gonna, like, disappear into the sea forever.”

“No, in the hotel pool.”

Barry raises an eyebrow.

“There’s a pool?”

“Seriously? Dude, did you read any of the stuff I sent you?”

“I skimmed it.”

Cisco rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Do you wanna come?”

“Not really.” Barry gives him a questioning look. “Does Cynthia even want to come?”

He shrugs.

“I dunno. Gonna find out when I knock on her door.”

“You could just call her.”

“Haven’t snagged the digits yet.”

Cisco digs through the pile on his bed before pulling out his trunks and a towel.

“Hold on, you don’t have her room number either.” He shrugs again. Barry looks at him like a disapproving parent. “Cisco, no.”

“Cisco  _ yes _ .”

“You’re not gonna knock on every door in the hotel until you find her. That’s what a stalker would do.”

Cisco scoffs.

“Of course I’m not!” Barry breathes a sigh of relief. “I saw her go into the stairwell, so I only have to check the other three floors.”

“Cisco—”

“See you later, crocogator!”

The door shuts behind him. Barry knows that, as his wingman it’s his responsibility to try and stop him. Cynthia will — rightfully — think Cisco’s completely insane if he runs around the entire hotel to try and find out where she’s sleeping. Then any semblance of attraction she might have had for him will be totally gone. And then Cisco’s spring break will be ruined and he’ll be heartbroken.

On the other hand, the fifty bucks will be his.

Barry’s head sinks into the pillow as he balances the pros and cons of going after Cisco.

_ Pro: _ He would be fulfilling his moral obligation as Cisco’s wingman.

_ Con: _ Cisco could outrun him pretty easily if he wanted to.

_ Pro: _ It would increase Cisco’s chances with Cynthia.

_ Con: _ It would increase Cisco’s chances with Cynthia, ergo reducing the chances of getting fifty bucks.

_ Pro: _ He could finally sit Cisco down and have a frank discussion with him about boundaries.

_ Con:  _ It would be a lot of effort.

_ Pro:  _ Even ignoring his wingman-ly duties, Barry owes it to him as his friend to not let him do stupid shit like that.

_ Con: _ Cisco would probably have a hell of a story to tell if he ended up going through the whole hotel looking for her.

_ Pro:  _ Cynthia would be less likely to kill either of them if Cisco wasn’t stalking around looking for her.

_ Con:  _ If Cisco loops him into helping him out, Cynthia will kill both of them.

_ Pro:  _ Probably the right thing to do.

_ Con:  _ Very tired.

Very, very tired.

Barry yawns, finagling his way under the covers. Evidently all that sitting around doing nothing the whole day really took it out of him. As he rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp, he decides he’ll figure it out in the morning.


	3. Storms and Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anon, Purpleyin, and shyesplease for reviewing!

So much for sun and sand.

In an ideal world, Barry would be awoken by soft rays of sunshine creeping through the cracks in the blinds, the warmth easing him out of sleep’s gentle hold.

Well in an  _ actually _ ideal world, Barry would have woken up at home, but here he is.

A crack of thunder starts him awake. His eyes shoot open wide and his heart starts thudding at a hundred miles a minute. He holds a hand to his chest and starts panting

After a second crack Cisco lets out a manly squeak.

“Oh god we’re dying I’m gonna die a virgin!”

Barry squints at him through the dim lighting and the early-morning grogginess.

“Really? You want  _ those  _ to be your last words?”

“Oh god are we actually dying?”

Barry buries his head under the pillows like an ostrich in the sand.

“Barry, I don’t wanna die a virgin.”

“I can’t help you there.”

He doesn’t know if Cisco can understand his muffled voice through the pillow and he frankly doesn’t care.

Another crack of thunder makes Cisco screech. If nature hadn’t fully awoken Barry, then that scream certainly did. He uncovers his face, glaring at the ceiling.

“Please stop screaming.”

“I’m not screaming! I’m… reacting!”

“The rain slams viciously against the window and the wind nearly shakes the foundations of the hotel. Barry rubs his eyes.

“What time is it?”

“7:17.” Cisco’s voice is nervous and shaky.

“Great. This is exactly how I wanted to spend spring break.”

Cisco disentangles himself from the blankets, trudging over to the window.

“Maybe it’ll pass soon?”

He cracks the blinds and is greeted by a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder.

“Yeah,  _ maybe it’ll pass soon _ .”

“Dammit!” Cisco exclaims, stomping his foot like a child who isn’t allowed to get a cookie until after dinner. “Come on! This was supposed to be beach day!”

“Isn’t every day supposed to be beach day?” Barry asks dryly.

“Gypsy was gonna wear a bikini, and she was gonna ask if anyone had any sunscreen, and I was gonna be all  _ hey I have some suncreen  _ and she was gonna be all  _ oh if only I could reach my back  _ and I was gonna—”

“Cisco, please don’t share your wet dreams with me.” Barry sits up and runs a hand through his bedhead.  “And did you even check the forecast?”

“Yes!”

He gives Cisco a pointed look.

“Well, kind of.”

His expression doesn’t waver.

“Okay, I didn’t, but seriously, when does it  _ ever  _ rain at the beach?”

Barry looks at the window and then back at Cisco. He sighs.

“Point taken.”

Cisco trudges back over and flops onto his bed, pulling out his phone. Barry instinctively reaches for his own, only to grasp thin air on the bedside table. He stares at the bare surface in confusion. His phone is always on the bedside table. Out of necessity, really. If the alarm doesn’t go off he’s liable to sleep half the day way.

He forces himself out of bed, trudging around the room in search of his device. He checks under the beds, on the windowsill, in the bathroom, in the mini-fridge (it would not be the first time), and then digs through his bag for a couple of minutes. When all of those searches prove fruitless a sinking feeling rises in his gut. Did he leave it at home?

“Cisco?” he asks. “Have you seen my phone?”

“Hm?” Cisco doesn’t look up from his screen.

“My phone. Have you seen it?”

“Nah,” he yawns.

“Great,” Barry mutters, standing and scanning the room thoughtfully.

_ Wait _ .

He couldn’t have left it at home. He and Caitlin were jamming the entire car ride. Come to think of it, that’s the last time he remembers using it. Ergo, it must still be in the car.

Another building-shaking thundercrack startles him.

Ah, yes. In the car. Out in the pouring rain. With all the force of mother nature pelting down on the entire town. Perfect.

“I think it might be in the car,” Barry grumbles, slipping on his shoes and hoodie. “Can I borrow your keys?”

“Nah, dude, it’s unlocked.”

Barry’s too tired to berate him for not locking the car in a town like this.

“Oh, hey, did I tell you how it went last night?”

Barry gives him a confused look.

“We just woke up, Cisco. How could you have told me?”

“Well it went really well.”

He offers a small smile.

“Good.”

Cisco continues typing away on his phone.

“Well, I’m gonna go get my phone.”

“Don’t drown.”

“Thanks.”

He exits the room with a sigh. To be fair to Cisco, he didn’t check the forecast either. He came here under the same willful delusions that it would be all sunshine and rainbows. Which unfortunately means the most insulating clothes he brought are the hoodie and sweatpants he’s wearing now.

That’s why he ambles down the hall at a snail’s pace. He’s in no hurry to get rained on. Or to catch hypothermia. Or to drown, as Cisco was  _ so  _ worried about.

He stares around absentmindedly. He hadn’t really noticed the night before, but this is a damn nice hotel. The carpets have pleasant, unobtrusive swirls in a pleasing mix of tan and baby blue, the wallpaper has nice floral patterns, and there are little faux tiki torches on the right side of every door. It’s very beach-y and sort of treads the line between tacky and stylish. It scratches his aesthetic itch.

Despite his hesitancy to come here at all, he loves the beach. He’s loved it all his life. Some if his fondest memories are from summer vacations his family used to take him on.

He sighs as he rounds a corner.

Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he didn’t want to come, even if only subconsciously. Maybe he doesn’t love the beach so much as the memories of it. His parents chasing him around on the shore, building sandcastles, staying up late watching movies, and making his dad read him stories until he fell asleep.

A small smile graces his features.

Barry doesn’t let himself think about them often. Drudges up too much hurt. Makes it difficult to stay positive.

He shakes his head.

See, this is why he needs a solid eight hours of sleep every night. If he doesn’t, he gets all mopey and contemplative and down and life’s too short to waste time on that. He’s just gotta keep going.

And so he does. He walks through the lobby, waving to the receptionist as he goes. The woman rolls her tired eyes and takes a long sip of her coffee.

“Another one?”

Barry stops, giving her a puzzled look.

“Sorry?”

“I thought I wasn’t going to have to deal with you for at least a few more hours.” She takes a long swig. “Whatever. Have fun with your girlfriend. Don’t make a mess.”

Barry isn’t sure how to respond, so he just stands there in confusion. The woman doesn’t look up again.

“Dining room.”

He turns to look at the cafeteria, partially visible through the doorway of the lobby. It’s dimly-lit and filled mostly with older people.  _ Mostly _ .

Caitlin sits in the far right corner, staring at the wall. He feels drawn to her, so he makes his way from the lobby through the dining room doorway to her table. His steps are loud, as to not startle her. She looks up as he approaches.

“Hey,” he says.

She offers a tiny smile.

“Is this seat taken?”

She shakes her head just a little. He pulls out the chair across from her and takes a seat, resting his fidgeting hands in his lap. She looks more tired than ever. The bags under her eyes are darker and heavier than usual, and the neutral expression she typically sports is replaced by a frown. He guesses she slept less than he did.

“Are you, uh…” He hesitates. Should he treat her like something’s wrong? “Are you okay?” She doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

It’s a relief to hear her voice, regardless of how tired or unsure she sounds.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Her smile is wistful, which almost seems worse than no smile at all.

“I don’t know.”

Barry leans back in his chair and frowns, unsure of how to respond. He could keep barraging her with meaningless questions but she’d give the same response every time. And sitting in silence doesn’t seem any more helpful. Some people need company to feel better. People like Barry, actually. He thrives on being surrounded by those he loves, even if they’re not talking about or doing anything significant.

But Caitlin’s not like him. She’d probably take a book or some English homework over sitting around doing nothing with her friends. He supposes he could offer to get her a book. Or some English homework.

Barry sighs. She’s probably growing more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment, and he’s here brainstorming idiotic hypotheticals. He wonders what Cisco would do in this situation.

_ “Cait, what’s wrong? I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I just need you to know I’m here for you, okay? I’m always here for you if you need me.” _

To which she would give a polite ‘thank you,’ before trying to change the subject. And then he would keep asking if she needs anything and she would get more and more uncomfortable and—

A light bulb blinks on in Barry’s head.

Treating her like something’s wrong will just make things worse.

“Hey,” he says, doing his best to sound casual. “Do you like hot cocoa?”

She finally meets his eyes, an eyebrow quirked.

“And you can’t answer ‘I don’t know,’ because there is absolutely no middle ground for hot cocoa.”

She smiles, a genuine if small expression, and lets a little puff of air out of her nose. One of those little half-laughs she does when she’s amused but trying to hide it. Barry knows it well.

“I’m fine with it.”

He tsks.

“Yes or no, Ms. Snow,” he says. “Hey, that rhymed.”

She rolls her tired eyes.

“No. I suppose I’m not very fond of it.”

He smirks.

“Perfect.” He stands abruptly and walks over to the counter with all of the coffee machines, teabags, and other such hot drink products. He looks back at Caitlin and gestures for her to follow. Her expression is questioning, but she joins him nonetheless.

“This will be a fun challenge.”

“Challenge?” she asks with a yawn.

“I am going to teach you how to make the best damn cup of hot cocoa in the world and you will fall in love with it.”

He grabs a package of Swiss Miss, ignoring her skeptical look.

“I doubt that. There’s too much sugar in hot chocolate anyways.”

He scoffs.

“Come on, when has a little sugar hurt anyone?”

“...diabetes?”

“Now you’re just being sanctimonious.”

There’s a lapse in the conversation has he grabs a styrofoam cup.

“I ask out of genuine curiosity: do you know what that word means?”

He shrugs and she lets out a small chuckle.

“Step 1: always shake up the hot chocolate mix receptacle to spread out the flavor.” He shakes the pack around in the air furiously, garnering the curious looks of a few other occupants of the room. Caitlin smirks.

He tears the package open with precision, making sure the perforated line is followed to perfection. He begins pouring it into the styrofoam cup.

“Aren’t you supposed to put the water in first?”

Barry pauses the pouring and gapes at her.

“I beg your pardon? Water? What do you take me for, a barbarian?”

She crosses her arms.

“What’s wrong with water?”

“Woman, do you even know what hot chocolate  _ is _ ?”

She rolls her eyes again.

“Apparently not, seeing as you found it so necessary to teach me.”

He grins confidently.

“I will teach you the hell out of this hot chocolate, don’t you worry.”

That line was, in retrospect, a lot cooler in his head.

(Okay, maybe a  _ little  _ cooler.)

She cocks her head to the side, as if urging him to continue. He complies, grabbing a carton of milk from the counter and making a big show of unscrewing the lid.

“You must always begin with a highly-scientific test to ensure the milk has not passed its expiration date.”

“Reading the label?”

“Of course not.”

He puts his nose right above the top and inhales. He catches her tired expression shift out of the corner of his eye. It looks like she’s holding back a laugh.

“Very scientific,” she says.

He nods and drops to his knees to be eye-level with the cup.

“A professional hot cocoa maker never uses spoiled milk.”

“I don’t believe anyone with common sense uses spoiled milk.”

“Next, you have to make sure you get just… the right… amount… of…” He pauses dramatically between words, pouring the milk as precisely as possible. He stops just as the mixture rises to the brim of the cup. “Boom. Perfect.”

He slams the jug back onto the counter and throws his hands up in the air. He gets a few annoyed looks for the commotion but is undeterred. Caitlin bites back a smile.

“Okay, professor, what’s next?”

“So glad you asked, my student.”

He grabs a stirrer.

“You must stir both clockwise and counter-clockwise for equal amounts of time. I recommend ten seconds per spin cycle but you may adjust as you find necessary.” She shakes her head bemusedly.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Count with me, ready? One-two-three—”

“One-two—”

“No, you started after me. Ready? One-two—”

“—three-four—”

“Why didn’t you start at one with me? Okay, we need to start again. One-two—”

This continues for some time.

Eventually, Caitlin bursts into a fit of giggles. “Why am I laughing? It’s not even funny.”

He smirks. “Maybe I’m just that charming.”

She stares at him, amused smile turning honest for the briefest of moments.

“Anyways, once you’ve finished the stirring process, it’s time for the heat-ant process.”

“I don’t believe ‘heat-ant’ is a word.”

“If coolant can be a word, why can’t ‘heat-ant’ be one?”

She offers no response as he moves to the end of the counter towards the microwave. He pops it open and kneels down again.

“Always place the receptacle in the  _ absolute center  _ of the spinny tray.”

“Is ‘spinny tray’ its proper, scientific term?”

“Of course.” He gives her a  _ duh  _ face and she giggles again.

“ _ Of course _ ,” she echoes. He draws out putting the cup in the microwave for an obnoxious span of time, adjusting and re-adjusting and re-re-adjusting like it was his tie before homecoming.

“There we go.” He shuts the microwave door and lets his fingers hover over the number keys.

“Is this the final step?”

“Nearly, grasshopper.”

“I thought you were a professor, not a sensei.”

“A man can be two things.”

She laughs and he grins widely.

“Always consider the size of your container when choosing how to to set the timer. We’re using a standard styrofoam cup with a capacity of exactly  _ hmhm _ ounces and a height of  _ mhm  _ inches. Apply trigonometric functions and the Pythagorean theorem—”

“—pretty sure that’s used for triangles—”

“—and then hit, like, forty-five seconds because that works for everything.” He presses the keys and then hits start. “And that, my friend, is how you make the perfect hot cocoa.”

“A thorough lesson, Mr. Allen.” Her words are laced with formal sarcasm.

“You were a good student, Ms. Snow. Or a good grasshopper, or whatever. That wasn’t exactly clear.”

They share a laugh, finally abandoning their playful facades. 

The microwave whirs on softly in the background as Caitlin runs a hand through her hair. It’s messy and curly, sticking up in every which way and falling in front of her eyes. It should be the poster child for bedhead. It’s frankly adorable.

“I like your hair,” he blurts.

She chuckles.

“You like my awful bedhead?”

“Yeah, it… works.”

Her smile turns bashful.

“Thank you.”

A silence follows and Barry feels incredibly at ease. Caitlin is smiling. He got her to smile. He’s a little proud of that.

However, the pair haven’t the time to bask in their happy little silence, as Cisco chooses that precise moment to jump out of thin air.

“Barry!” he exclaims. Caitlin lets out a little yelp.

“Stop doing that!” Barry exclaims back. He just  _ had _ to kill their moment.

No, that’s an understatement.

He  _ murdered  _ the moment.

Nope, still not severe enough.

The moment was a pedestrian, just minding its own business walking down the crosswalk after the little white man appeared on the sign. Cisco was a massive garbage truck who, upon seeing the moment, floored the gas and steered directly towards it. Undeterred by the moment’s screaming and wails of agony, he kept going until it was nothing but dust in his rearview.

Cisco committed vehicular manslaughter on the moment.

“Oh, hey Caitlin,” Cisco says absentmindedly. “Anyways, daddy needs his raincoat.”

Caitlin and Barry share a perturbed look.

“Raincoat?” she asks.

“ _ Daddy _ ?” he asks, significantly more disgusted.

“Cynthia and I were texting and she apparently loves this weather—”

“—unsurprising—”

“—and she suggested we go out for a walk and stuff but I think when she says walk she might actually mean make out in my car which would be pretty damn—”

“Cisco, I swear to god if you don’t stop talking about making out with her I’m going to vomit on you and then kill myself.”

“Just being honest.”

“There is such a thing as too much honesty,” Caitlin says, looking as uncomfortable as Barry feels. “And why exactly are you sharing this with us in the first place?”

“Oh yeah! I got so excited I ran out of the room to meet up with her and I forgot my raincoat and my keys.”

“Smooth,” Barry says, reluctantly digging through his pocket for his room key. “Wait, why did you pack a raincoat if you didn’t check the forecast?”

“You know my motto: always be prepared.”

“You have literally never said that once.”

“You are literally in denial.”

Barry rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Just bring the keys back before you guys… go on a walk.”

“And please sanitize the seats before we go home,” Caitlin adds.

“Aw, dammit, I didn’t even think about that.” Barry almost retracts his hand but Cisco has snatched the keys and is already halfway out of the dining room.

“You guys are prudes!”

Barry exhales heavily once he’s gone.

“They’re moving… quickly,” Caitlin manages after a few moments. He nods.

“I’m worried he’s gonna get invested and he’ll get his heart broken again.”

“Do you think she doesn’t like him?”

He shrugs. “Who knows? I mean they’re all flirty and stuff but she could just be playing around with him.”

“Well I, for one, don’t believe she would be so heartless.”

Barry raises an eyebrow.

“She’s not as tough as she wants everyone to believe she is.”

“What makes you say that?”

She hesitates.

“After…” She sighs. “After… Ronnie… she came up to me at school. She just sort of looked at me. As if she was trying to think of something nice to say. And after a while she gave me a hug and just let me cry.”

His expression softens.

“I’m just saying that I wouldn’t be so quick to judge her.”

“Alright,” he says, pausing to consider it. “I guess I’m more concerned about him.”

Caitlin nods with a frown.

“And it’s not just Cynthia. It could be anyone. He’s probably getting his hopes up about them being a real couple or something.”

“Why couldn’t they be a real couple?”

Barry pauses to think.

“I dunno, I guess spring break isn’t about that. Forming real relationships or whatever. It’s more about living in the moment. Being in love for a week and never speaking again. Cisco wants something more and he’s not gonna get it here.”

She purses her lips.

“I suppose you’re right.”

The silence that follows is somehow more tense, and Barry is puzzled. A beeping distracts him, however.

“Oh, the hot chocolate!”

After Cisco’s surprise entrance their lesson had been nearly forgotten, leaving the cup of hot chocolate in the microwave for a few minutes. Barry opens it and hands her the warm cup.

“Here you go, my lady.” He bows with faux formality and she chuckles.

“Thank you, kind sir.” She sips it and clicks her tongue.

“What’s the verdict?”

“On a scale from one to ten?”

He nods.

“Undecided.”

He pouts.

“Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging!”

“It’s certainly warm.”

His pout intensifies and she rolls her eyes. She takes another sip, exhaling in satisfaction.

“Okay, it’s amazing. Ten out of ten.”

“Not an eleven?”

“Be glad I tried it at all,” she says, taking another sip and sighing again. He smirks.

“But it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, right?”

“You’re going to continue badgering me until I concede, aren’t you?”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

“Sure. The best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He pumps his fist in the air.

“Hell yeah!”

A few grumbles echo in the room. The older folks are evidently finding it difficult to enjoy their peace and quiet when Barry keeps making noise. Caitlin yawns.

“Barry?” she asks sleepily. “Do you mind if I take a nap?” Another yawn. “I barely slept last night.”

He smiles.

“Of course not. You want me to walk you back to your room?”

She smiles coyly.

“Don’t you have to wait for Cisco to return your key?”

He purses his lips.

“Because if you’re not here you know he’s just going to keep them while they’re… walking.”

His nose scrunches up in disgust.

“Good point.” She takes another sip of the cocoa. “Have a good nap. See you around.”

She gives him a quick hug. “Bye, Barry. Thank you. For everything.”

He smiles at her retreating figure until she disappears from the dining room. Before he can even turn around to shut the microwave, Cisco sprints in from the other side of the doorway.

“Here you go!” He throws the keys at Barry. They hit his stomach before falling to the floor.

“Ow!” he yelps, but Cisco is gone just as quickly as he left. “Thanks,” he mutters to nobody in particular, reaching down to pick up the keys. He shuts the microwave door and begins a slow trek back to his room.

Barry feels a strange pull to go in the other direction towards the stairwell. Towards Caitlin. He sometimes takes for granted how much he enjoys her company, and he already misses it. She’s just so easy to be around. So easy to talk to. But her rest is more important, so he ignores the impulse and makes his way back to his room.

Once he enters he notices Cisco’s keys lying on the bathroom sink. He rolls his eyes. His friend couldn’t even take a millisecond to grab them with his raincoat. Barry props the door open in case Cisco needs to get in again.

He kicks his shoes off and plops onto the bed, stretching out and yawning. He’s not sleepy-tired, but all this rain and gloom has him in a lazy mood. He reaches for his phone, only to grab at thin air on the bedside table.

_ Wait. _

Where is his phone?

_ Wait! _

He never went to check the car. He got sidetracked with Caitlin. And then hot cocoa. And then Cisco and all his gross stuff about Cynthia and forgetting his keys and— 

_ WAIT. _

He groans, sinking into his pillow in defeat.

“Goddammit.”


	4. Spinning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to airi, Purpleyin, and shyeplease for reviewing! And sorry for the delay; life's gotten a little crazy lately. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to weekly updates now that school's winding down.

In a way, Barry gets to spend the second day of spring break exactly the way he’d envisioned it. 

Or rather, the way he envisioned it  _ before _ he let himself get dragged along to the beach.

With Caitlin sleeping and Cisco… preoccupied… he finds himself staring slack-jawed at the television screen for an extended period of time. Just as nature intended.

Although he does have to roll out of bed every once in a while for the essentials: a cup of water, a snack from the vending machine, a bathroom break, or the like. But for the most part he confines himself to his room, basking in the mellow laziness. After so many months of stress, this is the best possible way he could be spending his time.

Well,  _ almost _ the best.

Barry would be lying if he said that he was 100% satisfied with his activities. There’s an inexplicable urge to be out and about. To socialize. To hang out with people.

Or a person. Maybe one person. Not that he has anyone in mind. Maybe Caitlin. That would be nice.

He suspects the vibe is getting to him.

But it doesn’t matter all that much. She’s catching up on some much needed rest, snoring the day away in peace. Or maybe she’s not snoring. He wonders absentmindedly if she snores.

And he has very little to complain about. His room is a cool 65 degrees, his pillows are soft, his blankets are comfy, and he found a channel that reruns old cartoons. He’s at ease and that’s what matters.

It’s around lunchtime when he finally has human contact again, running into Cisco on a trek to the cafeteria for some more hot cocoa.

“My friend,” Cisco says, a wide grins stretched across his face. He looks as if he’s just jumped into a lake, dripping wet and shivering. “You will not believe the day I’ve had.”

“Okay, before you tell me, quick pop quiz: would describing your day be rated anything over PG?”

Cisco thinks it over for a few moments.

“I mean, sure, parental guidance might be recommended.”

“Follow-up quiz—”

“—not how that works—”

“—does the thing you’re trying to tell me have gross innuendos that will make me want to vomit?”

“Fam, how am I supposed to know what’s gonna trigger your gag reflex? You vomit over the silliest things!”

“I do not!”

Despite his protests Barry’s stomach is, in reality, incredibly weak. In the past month alone he’s thrown up because of a dissection in science, food poisoning, a horror movie, and stress. He doesn’t want to add Cisco and Gypsy’s make-out sessions to that ever-growing list.

“We didn’t even kiss.”

Barry pauses.

“What?”

“Yeah, dude, seriously.”

“So like… what  _ did  _ you do then?”

“We basically just ran around the whole town and saw the sights and bought cool tourist-y stuff.” He nods down at his soaked Hawaiian shirt, noticeably different from the one he wore earlier.

“You’ve been doing that for the last four hours? Aren’t you cold or something?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I have hypothermia.” Barry shakes his head as Cisco shivers. “But it was so fun and awesome and she’s even cooler than I thought.”

“I’m happy for you,” Barry says with a smile. “Glad you’re not rushing things.”

“I mean I would totally be going faster. I really wanna kiss her but I think she might wanna take it slow.” Barry nods, a little surprised at Cisco’s consideration. “Although she did hold my hand when we were running away from the security guard.”

Barry’s eyes widen.

“Uh, why were you running away from a security guard?”

Cisco shrugs.

“I think she stole something. I dunno. I was just looking at sun hats and then she was dragging me out and laughing.” He gets that dreamy look on his face. “She’s so hot.”

“Why is that hot to you?” He sighs. Better not to ask. “Nevermind, just… don’t let her get you into trouble. I don’t want to have to bail you out of beach jail.”

“Beach jail. Sounds tropical.”

“I’m serious, Cisco.”

“Hi serious, I’m Cisco.”

Crickets. Actual crickets.

Cisco adds, “Don’t worry. She’s really good at not getting caught.”

“That is not at all reassuring.” Cisco shrugs again. “Whatever, look, please be safe.”

Cisco gives a thumbs-up. “I’ve got condoms in my wallet.”

Barry cringes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Just making sure you know I’m not doing anything stupid.”

“Uh-huh,” Barry says, an unamused look on his face.

“On a related note, I need help from my wingman.”

“A related note?”

“Yes, I need your assistance. A bunch of us have decided since we can’t go to the beach we’re gonna have some fun here. We’ll be playing a classic, sexy game.”

“How is that a related note?”

“The quintessential teenage game,” Cisco continues, undeterred. “The rite-of-passage game. The greatest game.”

“Is it too much to hope it’s Super Mario Bros?”

“A good, old-fashioned game of spin-the-bottle.”

Barry sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Cisco, I am  _ not  _ playing spin-the-bottle with you.”

“I don’t want you to play spin-the-bottle with me. I don’t swing that way,” he says with a chuckle. “But if I did you’d totally be my first choice.”

Barry, despite his aggravation, is a teensy bit flattered by that.

“Great. So why do you need me?”

“To play spin-the-bottle!”

Barry blinks.

“Okay, so to clarify, I’m playing spin-the-bottle with you by not playing spin-the-bottle with you.”

“What? No. That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Nothing you say makes sense!”

Cisco slaps a palm to his forehead.

“I need you there to help!”

Barry gives the most confused look he can muster.

“Why in the hell do you need help to play spin-the-bottle? It’s not like you can play it  _ poorly _ .”

“Dude, come on, just be there for me.”

“It’s like asking me to help you flip a coin. If you need help then you shouldn’t have a coin in the first place.”

“Come  _ oooooon,  _ it’s your duty as my wingman!”

“You don’t need a wingman.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“What is happening?”

Caitlin’s voice cuts their infantile bickering short.

“Hey,” Barry says with a smile, trying to act like he didn’t just jump out of his skin and let out a pre-pubescent squeak. “How was your nap?”

“Very nice,” she says, returning the smile. “Thank you.”

“Oh, hey, wet Caitlin,” Cisco says absentmindedly. Caitlin’s hair is damp and hanging in front of her eyes a little. She looks well-rested and freshly-showered.

_ Beautiful. _

Barry blinks.

Why was that the first word he thought of.

Sure, Caitlin’s pretty. It’s not like he ever thought she was unattractive or anything. At the last dance he thought she looked stunning, even. But that was what he thought about Iris too. Just a platonic acknowledgment of attraction.

But this isn’t just an acknowledgment. It’s a feeling. A little twitch in his fingers. A tingle in his stomach. It’s…  _ she’s…  _ beautiful.

_ Huh. _

“So, what was that about?” she asks.

“Barry doesn’t want to support me!”

Cisco elaborates after her confused look.

“He refuses to be my spin-the-bottle wingman!”

Her face scrunches up in disapproval. “You’re playing spin-the-bottle?” It’s a cute look on her.

Barry shakes his head.

“I told you it was a stupid idea,” he says.

“What is so wrong with spin-the-bottle? I could be doing cocaine or binge-drinking right now! It’s like the least bad thing I could be doing on this trip.”

“Yet you admit it’s a bad thing,” Caitlin helpfully points out.

“Stop ganging up on me! You’re supposed to be supportive!”

“We are,” she replies. “This isn’t a great idea. Why not just kiss her? Why make a game out of it?”

“Thank you!” Barry exclaims. Cisco scoffs.

“What, am I supposed to just be like  _ hey boo you wanna get funky fresh _ ?”

Caitlin cringes.

“Please never say that again.”

“To anyone,” Barry adds. “Ever.”

“Then how am I supposed to kiss her, huh?”

“Like a normal person!” Barry exclaims. “Wait for the right moment. Don’t rely on a stupid game that might not even work. What if you don’t get to kiss her? What if you kiss someone you hate? Or a dude or something?”

“What’s wrong with kissing a dude?” Cisco asks, immediately indignant.

“Nothing. But do you wanna do it?”

Cisco holds up a finger like he’s about to go on a tirade but stops himself before any words come out.

“That’s what I thought,” says Barry.

“Look, guys, I’m not asking for you to approve or play or anything. Just come hang out for a little while.”

“Isn’t being there a form of approval?” Caitlin asks.

“Yeah, are you trying to trick us into approving of your poor decisions?”

“No! I’m just…” He pauses. “I’m nervous, okay? I’m really nervous. And it would mean a lot if you guys were there for me.”

Barry sighs, and he and Caitlin share a hesitant look.

“Alright.” she says.

“Fine. Please don’t make out with anyone.”

“No promises!”

And then he prances off down the hall toward the dining room. Barry and Caitlin follow, significantly less enthused.

“I can’t believe he keeps roping me into these shenanigans,” Barry grumbles. “Those stupid puppy-dog eyes.”

“You know he doesn’t do that on purpose.”

“I know. That makes it worse. You can’t just say no to a puppy. Might as well be kicking it. What kind of monster kicks a puppy?”

Caitlin gives him a questioning look.

“Why are you so set on the dog comparison?”

“I mean… y’know, he’s kinda got that energetic, hyperactive, ADHD way about him.” She nods.

A crack of thunder makes them both jump.

“Has the storm not cleared up yet?” she asks, a hand over her heart.

“Not even a little.”

She frowns.

“I hope today is the anomaly. I was looking forward to the beach.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You didn’t even want to come until last week.”

She shrugs.

“Might as well make the most of it,” she says. “Plus I need some sun. I’m essentially a ghost.”

Barry rolls his eyes.

“You don’t. You look great.”

The compliment just sort of came out, like the filter between Barry’s brain and his mouth took a coffee break.

“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile. He offers an equally-shy smile.

“Yeah, uh… sure.”

Before the awkwardness can set in, they reach the dining room. It’s filled to the brim with noise and teenagers, as expected. Barry wonders how long it will be before they receive noise complaints and the hotel manager gives them all a stern talking to.

(Hopefully not too long.)

They pass an older-looking couple who appear to be trying to enjoy lunch. The operative word in that sentence being  _ trying. _ Barry gives them a look that he hopes communicates  _ I’m so very sorry we’re intruding on your vacation. Please bear with us. _

Caitlin takes her seat at a table a good distance from the crowd and commotion, despite Cisco’s gesturing to come near. Barry sits next to her as Cisco dashes over.

“Come on, the party’s about to start! Join the fun!”

“We can be supportive from a distance,” Caitlin says.

“Yeah, you said nothing about actually being in the circle.”

Cisco looks back and forth between the two of them, trying to think of a response. He eventually gives up and heads back to the group, where people are shifting tables and chairs out of the way to make space for a circle on the ground. The noise becomes marginally less obnoxious as everyone takes their seats.

“How long do you think it’ll be before the hotel people break this up?”

Caitlin considers it.

“Half an hour, maybe.”

He chuckles, eyes wandering over to the circle again. Cynthia is in the very center of it all. Everyone falls dead silent as the bottle spins and spins and spins and begins slowing down. From this side of the room Barry can’t tell who it landed on, but the excess of cheering and catcalling indicates it’s probably good. Or whatever. Judging by the look on Cisco’s face (and the lack of Cynthia on Cisco’s face) it didn’t land on him. He turns back to Caitlin.

“Why are we here?” Barry asks.

“Because he asked,” Caitlin says matter-of-factly.

“No, I mean why does he need us here? How would us watching make him less nervous? If anything I feel like it’d make it worse.”

She shrugs.

“Maybe it’s a confidence boost. Like having your parents cheer you on in the stands at a big game.”

Barry thinks about it for a few seconds.

“What’s that like?”

Her eyes widen.

“Oh, no, Barry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”

“Wait, sorry.” He looks at her sheepishly. “I wasn’t trying to be a dick, I just meant… y’know, I don’t play sports and if I did they wouldn’t be there.”

She nods.

“Because they died and stuff.”

There’s a pause where Barry contemplates cutting out his tongue.

“Sorry, that was really stupid I dunno why I said that. I promise I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” She sighs. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Hey,” he says as he puts a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes dart to his hand, and then up at him, and then down at the table. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. You didn’t upset me or anything.”

A silence follows, only interrupted by the whooping and hollering horde of teenagers on the other side of the room. Cynthia crosses the circle and plants a kiss on the lips of a girl Barry doesn’t recognize. He catches sight of Cisco’s frown amongst a sea of excited expressions.

“May I ask something?”

Caitlin’s voice is small, tentative. Barry hadn’t realized until now but her voice had been much more confident and carefree since yesterday. But now it’s sinking back into its lower, reserved register, and he’s frankly a little concerned.

He nods hesitantly.

“Do you ever stop… missing them?” He cocks his head to the side. “Does it ever stop hurting?”

Barry uncharacteristically takes a few moments to consider his next words.

“Because you just… you talk about them so easily. And I can barely think about Ronnie without wanting to cry.”

He bites his lip.

“No.” Her faces falls. He quickly amends, “But it doesn’t get worse. And it doesn’t stay the same either.” She looks none-too-comforted by what he’s trying to say. “Sorry, this probably isn’t helping.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly. “Thank you for being honest.”

He sighs.

“It gets easier was the point I was trying to make, I think.” Barry shakes his head. He probably should’ve just said that in the first place. “It’ll take a long time. And I won’t lie to you, some mornings I wake up and cry because I can’t have breakfast with my parents and I won’t ever be able to again.”

The look Caitlin gives him is overwhelmingly tender and empathetic.

“But the hurt fades. Eventually I guess you come to terms with it. Not that it ever stops hurting, but there’s, like, a light at the end of the tunnel. The longer you head towards it the brighter things get. You figure out how to get by without them.”

He pauses, reconsidering his words.

“That’s probably not the right way to say it. I mean it’s not like your life is better without them. That’s not what I meant. Not that you thought I meant that. I don’t know what you thought. Uh, I just mean—”

His babbling is cut mercifully short as Caitlin wraps her arms around him. He returns the gesture in earnest.

“Are you just hugging me to get me stop rambling?” he asks over her shoulder.

She lets out a soft chuckle, her breath against his skin sending warm tingles down his spine.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

They separate, sitting noticeably closer than before. She smiles at him and the tension evaporates. Barry lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, feeling considerably lighter. He nudges her shoulder playfully and she nudges him back.

Noise rings out from the circle again as Gypsy kisses yet another non-Cisco person.

“Oof,” Barry says. Cisco’s frown has intensified into a pout. “He’s zero for two.” Caitlin nods. “I still don’t get why he wants to play so badly.”

“Have they kissed yet?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Apparently ‘let’s go on a walk in the pouring rain’ just means ‘let’s go on a walk in the pouring rain.’ Who would’ve guessed?”

She bites her lip thoughtfully, and Barry finds it inexplicably endearing. He wonders why; it’s not like this is the first time he’s seen it.

“Perhaps he’s just that desperate to kiss her.”

“Well, yeah, but why not just ask her then?”

“Maybe it’s not that easy.”

Barry rolls his eyes.

“Of course it is. It’s just a question.”

She gives him a challenging look.

“It’s a little more than that.”

He shrugs.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you want to kiss me?” he repeats, undeterred.

“I uh… why do you ask?”

He frowns.

“Well, I was trying to make the point that it  _ is  _ just a question.”

“Well you didn’t make it very well,” she says, a playful bite lacing her words. He chuckles.

“I guess not.”

“Cisco is probably afraid of the same response.”

“Afraid enough to risk both of them kissing other people?”

She nods to the circle. “Evidently so.”

They watch the game continue. Spin, holler, kiss, spin, holler, kiss, spin, rinse, kiss, repeat, spin, holler, rinse, kiss, repeat, spin, holler, kiss, and spin ad nauseam. After a while it becomes rhythmic, mesmerizing in a way. Eventually Barry’s motormouth decides the silence is too much, so he asks the most basic thing that comes to mind.

“How was your nap?”

She turns to him, eyebrow quirked.

“You already asked me that.”

_ Smooth. _

His expression turns sheepish.

“Oh, sorry. Uh, what did you say again?”

“It was very nice, thank you.” His cheeks heat up. “Am I so unmemorable?”

He knows she’s teasing but it doesn’t stop him from feeling like an ass.

“Of course not. You’re… you’re super memorable.”

_ Stay up all night thinking of that one _ ?

“Mhm,” she hums with a smirk as she gets up out of her seat. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Barry sighs, eyes trailing after her as she heads to the coffee counter to prepare something. Why does he have to be so damn awkward all the time? Always so thoughtless, so impulsive, so unobservant—

“Barry.”

Speaking of.

He was so busy watching Caitlin that he didn’t notice Iris sitting down across from him. He jumps.

“Oh, uh, hi.” she smirks.

“Hello to you too. So how long has this”—she looks back and forth between him and Caitlin—“been a thing?”

He blinks.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Don’t play dumb, Barry.”

“A thing? Like, a romantic thing?” He scoffs. “We’re not a romantic thing.”

“But you’re totally into her, right?”

He musters his best confused look.

“Why else would you guys be back here instead of playing?”

“Because it’s a stupid game.”

She gives him a  _ really?  _ look. 

“Then why are you here at all?”

He groans in exasperation.

“Because Cisco guilt-tripped us into coming. He wanted us to be supportive or something.”

Iris looks over at the circle and then back at Barry.

“Yeah, because you’re doing a whole lot of supporting from all the way over here.”

“We’re not a thing, Iris.”

“But you’re totally super into her.”

He rubs his temples frustratedly.

“Why would you even think that?”

“Uh, how about the fact that it took you thirty seconds to notice me sitting down because you were checking her out.”

“It was not thirty seconds.” Barry doesn’t sound nearly as confident as he’s trying to sound. “And I was not checking her out!”

Iris snickers and his face heats up. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have said that so loudly. Luckily, the wall of noise from the game prevents Caitlin from hearing him all the way across the room.

“Uh-huh.”

Iris stands, grinning smugly.

“I’m not into her,” he mumbles, not meeting her eyes.

“Tell me that again at the end of the week.”

Barry frowns as she returns to the circle.

Okay, even if he was into Caitlin it’s not like he could do anything about it. She’s still heartbroken over Ronnie. You don’t just bounce back into the dating world after your high school sweetheart dies. 

And  _ even if  _ she was ready to move on, it’s spring break. It’s not the time for steady relationships. Sure, maybe they have feelings now but what if it’s just because of the vibe? That’s all it is. That spring break feeling. That sweet spot between the delusional invincibility of childhood and the dangerous freedom of adulthood. Their feelings are fleeting. Temporary. A very pretty ice sculpture.

Barry shakes his head.

There aren’t even any feelings in the first place! It’s ridiculous. Iris is ridiculous. Caitlin is like his sister.

His face scrunches up.

Okay, maybe not his sister. More like… a friend. Just a friend. His best friend. Like Cisco. Barry wouldn’t date Cisco.

And Iris’ challenge is a point against her anyways. Yeah, sure,  _ maybe  _ he’ll be able to say he has feelings at the end of the week. But what about a month from then? Two weeks? A day?

Caitlin returns to her seat, sipping her tea. Barry tries to push the thoughts deep into his pit of repressed thoughts, right in between ‘Memories of Clowns’ and ‘Idiotic Impulses That I’m Going to Regret Giving Into.’

(Come to think of it, he should probably file these thoughts under the latter.)

Her shoulder touches his and his heart jumps a little.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” she replies, smiling. “Miss me?”

He blinks.

“Uh, ha, yeah, definitely.”

Why are his palms getting clammy?

She raises an eyebrow.

“Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Iris was just… Iris and I were talking.”

“Oh. Is something wrong?”

_ Think, Barry, think _ .

“She just… she was wondering… she was asking why we weren’t playing.”

_ Alright, not your worst performance _ .

Caitlin doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she doesn’t question him. There’s a pause as she takes another sip of her tea. She sighs in satisfaction.

After a few moments, she tilts her head against his shoulder, scooting a little bit closer. He finds himself almost reflexively resting his head atop hers. They continue watching the game in silence. His heartbeat picks up, his palms sweat, and he feels tingles running up and down his spine with every little movement Caitlin makes. Maybe comparing her to Cisco wasn’t as apt as he thought, because Cisco sure as hell doesn’t make him feel like this.

“Hey, Barry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad I came. On the trip, I mean.”

He smiles.

“Me too.”

_ Oh boy. _


	5. SBF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Purpleyin and shyesplease for reviewing!

_ barry _

_ baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrry _

_ baaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaAArararry _

Barry almost wishes that his phone was still out in the car, locked away in the storm. He’s just about at his wit’s end with this.

_ Bartholomew Henry Allen you can’t ignore me forever. _

_ ight whatever i see how it is _

The storm has long since passed, however, so he’ll just have to deal.

_ All im gonna say is dont deny your feelings. you got it baaaad for caitlin and you gotta go for it _

Granted he  _ could  _ just turn his phone off or put it in his room or something. But what kind of self-respecting millennial would do that?

_ let yourself be happy _

His fingers hover over the virtual keyboard for a few moments. Is it really worth giving her the satisfaction of responding?

_ Shut up _

Probably not.

He backspaces the message and locks his phone. Maybe at some point Iris will find it in her heart to be merciful and leave him alone. 

Or maybe she’ll get bored.

Now that he thinks about it, the latter is much more likely. She’s been texting shit like this nonstop since yesterday; she’s gotta run out of steam sometime.

_ Probably not soon, though,  _ he thinks, reaching into his pocket to silence the device.

He takes a glum bite of his bacon. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as it looks. That could be a side effect of the exhaustion, though, because Barry is  _ tired. _ Yet another thing he’s pissed at Iris for.

After spin-the-bottle was broken up by the hotel staff (in under thirty minutes, as Caitlin predicted) Barry escaped to his room for the rest of this day, probably with some lame excuse of a stomach ache or something. He can’t really remember. It was a long night.

Iris’ taunting voice kept repeating in his head.

_ But you’re totally into her, right? _

_ But you’re totally super into her. _

_ Tell me that again at the end of the week. _

On a loop for hours. No peace, no quiet, no rest. Cartoons didn’t help. Mindless social media scrolling didn’t help. Cisco coming in at 11:30 PM ranting and raving about how close he was to kissing Cynthia  _ certainly  _ didn’t help.

_ “Dude, I swear, we were SO DAMN CLOSE!” _

_ “I’m sure you were, Cisco.” _

_ “We hung out the ENTIRE DAY and I WASTED IT! There was so much sexual tension. Whew, lordy, I’m still coming down.” _

_ “Are you really now, Cisco?” _

_ “Do you think she’s gonna go for French kissing the first time? Or is that, like, a second or third kiss type thing?” _

_ “I don’t know, Cisco.” _

_ “Barry, be honest with me, do you think I can get to third base by the end of the week?” _

_ “I’m sure you can, Cisco.” _

It went on like that for a while. Eventually Cisco tuckered himself out pacing and complaining, and promptly fell asleep; leaving Barry alone with his stupid, Iris-induced thoughts. Damn Iris. Damn her and her stupid assumptions and observations and perceptiveness. Damn her.

And damn her especially for being right.

Barry thought that sequestering himself from everyone (namely, Caitlin) would have given some clarity or relief or some peace, but all he got was more angst and more confusion and a realization he didn’t want to have.

_ I have feelings for Caitlin. _

At first he thought his sleep-deprived brain was just gargling nonsense and he was losing it. But as he rolled around in his bed in a vain attempt to get comfortable it kept echoing.

_ I have feelings for Caitlin. _

Over and over and over and over again, drowning out Iris’ mocking and teasing. Getting more intense and growing in volume every time it looped.

_ I HAVE FEELINGS FOR CAITLIN. _

Barry takes another glum nibble.

Y’know what? Damn Cisco too. If he hadn’t looped him into coming on this stupid trip this wouldn’t be a problem at all. Barry and Caitlin could have just continued on their merry, friendly way.

Then again, Barry was the one who convinced her to come in the first place.

Damn everyone. Damn everything. Everyone sucks and everything is awful and life is pain.

Barry grumbles weakly. The sleep deprivation is making him melodramatic. Like, Cisco levels of melodramatic.

_ Reign it in, Allen, it’s just a crush. _

He takes a deep breath.

That’s all it is. A crush. A stupidly-powerful crush. A keeps-you-up-at-night-thinking-of-them crush. An illogical crush.

He says illogical because it makes zero sense whatsoever. Not that Caitlin’s… unattractive or unappealing or anything. Exactly the opposite, he would say. She’s great and she’s pretty and smart and super clever and witty and he can’t even think about her without his heart rate spiking because she’s just the greatest thing in the entire  _ dammit here we go again— _

But why now? What’s changed?

Barry pondered this pretty much the entire night before and was only able to come up with one hypothesis: he’s succumbed to Spring Break Fever.

Spring Break Fever (SBF), for the uninformed, is an infectious disease that affects individuals of all ages. Despite its name, the affliction’s reach extends far beyond any given spring break. SBF can infect anyone at any point, provided the individual meets any or all of the following criteria:

1: The individual is participating in an event that is anomalous or out-of-the-ordinary when compared to their typical routine.

2: The individual has more freedom than is typically available to them.

3: The individual is surrounded by questionable peers (see: Cisco Ramon, Iris West) who may influence or pressure them to participate in equally questionable activities.

SBF’s symptoms include but are not limited to:

Excessive consumption of alcohol

An unusual spike in drug usage, regardless of the user’s prior pension for narcotics

Increased libido

Objectively poor spending habits

A decrease in self control

A sudden, inexplicable change in what the individual values or believes

Confused romantic feelings for a close friend (see: Caitlin Snow)

While the symptoms for SBF may be intimidating or even frightening, treatment of the disease is simple. An infected individual should consider these options:

1: Resist the temptation to give into peer pressure and instead go about your vacation/break/anomalous day trip as you would go about your everyday life.

2: Leave the infected zone and return to your normal domicile and routine; symptoms will begin disappearing within days or, in some cases, even hours.

3: Don’t be a goddamn dumbass (see: Barry Allen).

Barry sighs. Even his hypothetical medical article is being mean to him.

However, it does have a point. This isn’t difficult to deal with. It just requires a modicum of self-control; something Barry has an abundance of.

(He wonders if anyone would buy that lie.)

All he has to do is avoid Caitlin as much as possible, ignore all potentially self-destructive impulses, and represses his feelings. Easy-peasy. No problem. Like taking candy from a baby. A baby that is him. Like taking candy from himself. Simple. Simpler if she wasn’t walking into the dining room right that moment.

_ Go over and talk to her. _

_ Ask her out. _

_ Kiss her. _

_ I HAVE FEELINGS FOR CAITLIN. _

He lowers his head and faces the wall, hoping against hopes that she won’t notice him.

Or maybe he’s hoping she does notice him.

He stares blankly at the floral patterning, simultaneously hoping she does and doesn’t notice him. God his brain hurts.

“Hey.”

Well, half his wish is granted.

His knee slams into the table as he jumps.

“Dammit,” he groans, clutching his quickly-bruising knee. Caitlin looks at him worriedly.

“Are you okay?” she asks. He looks up at her and loses the function of breath for a few short moments.

_ Beautiful. _

There’s that stupid word again. Just like yesterday. This whole freshly-showered look really suits her. Then again, literally every look suits her.

“Uh, no?” he says, more a question than an answer. Her worry intensifies. “Er, what? No? I’m great?”

She frowns.

“Totally fine. You know me, Mr. Cool-As-A-Cucumber 24/7, 365. Except on leap years. Then it’s 24/7, 366.”

She just looks confused now.

“Barry… uh…”

He shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m really out of it.”

“Did you sleep alright?” she asks.

“Not really.”

She looks at him expectantly.

“Uh, Cisco snores. Like, really loudly.” She chuckles.

_ +1 to Deception _

“He also talks in his sleep.”

“About Cynthia?”

“Uh-huh.”

Barry’s technically not lying, because Cisco  _ was _ actually sleep-talking about Cynthia and picnics and back alley drug dealers (he doesn’t even want to ask), but that doesn’t stop guilt from pricking him in the stomach. He feels bad. He wants to be honest with her.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

She slides into the seat across from him and the guilt is replaced with nerves. This wasn’t just a little check-in. She’s here and she wants to spend time with him.

And, self-preservation be damned, he wants to spend time with her too.

“Yeah. He also has an awesome habit of waking me up in the most obnoxious ways possible.” Caitlin quirks an intrigued eyebrow.

_ WHY IS EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES SUDDENLY CUTE? _

“This morning he shouted ‘Going to the beach with Gypsy! Don’t sleep all day!’ and then slammed the door before I could even say anything. Like, why even wake me up for that?”

Caitlin chuckles.

“Do you share a room often?”

Images of nocturnal gaming/binge-snacking sessions flash in his mind’s eye.

“We, uh… study together… a lot.’

_ -1 to Deception _

“And, uh, if we study really late I usually just crash at his place.”

Why is he even trying to lie? It’s not like Caitlin’s gonna judge him for being a total dorky 12-year-old. Unless she does. She might. No, she wouldn’t. Probably. Right? Oh god, what if she does? What if she thinks he’s totally lame and doesn’t want to hang out anymore?

_ Oh buddy you’re a goner. _

She nods, and if she doesn’t believe him she doesn’t show it. He continues talking because he’s Barry and what else is he really capable of doing?

“One time he slapped me in the face with a cold sausage.” She blinks at him. 

_ Give it up for the king of non sequiturs, ladies and gentleman. _

“I mean, to wake me up. Just, cause we were talking about… uh, Cisco waking me up. I mean,  _ I _ was talking about it. You were kind of just listening. Sorry you had to listen to that. And to me, in general.”

Caitlin opens her mouth to say something but holds back. She bites her lip to suppress a smile. Barry’s nerves are supplanted by curiosity.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says a little too quickly. He raises an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” she murmurs, looking away with a little grin.

“Come  _ oooooon.  _ You can’t do that. That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” she asks with an air of faux-innocence.

“ _ Caitliiiiiin. _ ”

She pauses to consider her words.

“I was going to ask if ‘slapped me in the face with a cold sausage’ was a euphemism for something less… appropriate.”

Barry’s jaw drops as Caitlin giggles.

“Oh my god.”

“In my defense—”

“First of all, ew.”

“Look, you—”

“Second of all, you are a  _ child, _ ” he says with a laugh. “I thought you were supposed to be, like, the mom of our friend group.”

“Moms are entitled to a couple of crude jokes,” she says defensively. “I thought  _ you  _ were supposed to be more careful with your words.”

He snorts.

“Clearly you don’t know me that well.”

“Clearly,” she says, smiling. “Perhaps we should spend more time together, then.”

His breath hitches.

_ She’s just being friendly. Caitlin’s always friendly. She probably just wants to spend time as a group with Cisco. So we can babysit him. That’s it. Definitely. What else could she mean? _

“Ha, yeah. I could use some help babysitting Cisco, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she says.

_ Whew. _

“Although Cynthia seems to be doing a pretty good job of that herself. So I suppose we could spend some time together this week.”

_ Ah. _

“Just us.”

_ Houston, we have a problem. _

All he has to do is weasel his way out like he did last night. This bacon is pretty bad, so the stomach ache lie would make even more sense. He just has to follow the SBF treatment guide. It’s simple. A modicum of self-control. He has a modicum.

“Yeah, uh… definitely. We should.”

_ -100,000,000 to Making Good Decisions _

Caitlin’s smile widens, and that almost makes it worth the stress and nervousness he’s dealing with right now. She leans her elbows on the table and eyes the bacon on his plate hungrily.

“Do you mind?” she asks, gesturing to it. He shakes his head.

“Be my guest.”

She snatches a piece and takes a bite, letting out a little satisfied noise.

_ STOP. BEING. CUTE. DAMMIT. _

“That’s really good,” she mumbles, each consecutive bite more ravenous than the last. Barry slides the plate over. She gives him a grateful look.

A bit later and a significant dent has appeared in the mound of pig.

“Why do you even have this much bacon?” Caitlin asks between bites.

“Why are you eating so much of it?”

“Touché.” She leans back in her chair, tilting her head up and letting out a sigh. “Please don’t let me eat any more of this.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He slides the plate back towards himself and grabs a piece of bacon. He hesitates before biting into it. “Mm.”

“Right?”

He nods. It’s suddenly the most delicious bacon he’s ever eaten.

“Oh, Caitlin.” He points at her mouth. She looks confused.

“You’ve got a…” She wipes the wrong side.

“No, over a little.” She wipes further in the other direction.

“No, the other…” She goes lower.

He shakes his head, grabbing a napkin and lightly swiping the crumbs off the corner of her mouth. She looks down bashfully.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. Barry blinks. He didn’t even mean to do that. It was instinct.

_ Why was intimate face-touching your first instinct? _

Luckily, Caitlin seems as eager to move on from that awkward interlude as he is, so she resumes talking.

“Do you want to check out the town?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“The town?”

“They have all sorts of tourists traps and restaurants and… stuff. To do.”

“Stuff. To do,” he repeats with a smirk. “Very specific.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you not interested?”

“No,” he says. “Er, I mean, yes? I never know how to answer without making it a double negative or a double positive or whatever.”

“A double positive would just be a positive,” she helpfully points out. He squints, considering it for a few moments.

“Uh-huh,” he says with more than a little uncertainty.

“Are you interested in checking out the town?” she rephrases.

_Just say no._ _Follow the treatment guide._

“Sure. I could use some stuff to do.”

In reality, he could use a distraction. From the feelings, from the temptations, from Caitlin.

So, naturally, the distraction he chooses is going out with Caitlin to do fun, teenager-y things alone in a beach town with pretty much total freedom.

She smiles.

“Alright,” she says, standing.

“Wait, you mean now?”

_ Oh sure, now you try to weasel your way out of it. _

“Well, we only have a few days here.” Her smile drops the slightest bit. “Would you rather wait?”

He could say no. She’s given him an out. This is his opportunity to stop this in its tracks.

“No, we can go today.”

She grins. “Okay. I’m gonna go change.”

“Why?” he blurts. She chuckles.

“You want me to go out looking like  _ this? _ ” She gestures to herself; all pajamas and messy, damp hair and lack of makeup.

_ Yes please. _

“Ha, no, I just meant…”

_ Think, Barry, think. _

“Don’t you wanna finish the heart-attack-on-a-plate?”

“Very aptly named.”

“Patent-pending.”

She laughs.

“I think I’ve had my fill of bacon for the next month.”

“Only a month? Damn.” She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Meet in the lobby in a few minutes?”

“Can we define ‘a few?’” he asks. “I feel like everyone has their own personal definition and I just wanna make sure our ‘fews’ line up.”

“About fifteen.”

“Fifteen? See, this is why I asked. That’s five times longer than my ‘few.’”

“Well, good thing we settled it then,” she teases.

“Also, are you for real? What do you even need fifteen minutes for?” He narrows his eyes. “Caitlin, are you sneaking off to write a college essay?”

She feigns shock.

“How dare you?” she shoves him lightly. “I resent that accusation.”

“I resent your face.”

“And  _ I’m  _ the child?”

“Why is it gonna take fifteen  _ minuuuuuutes? _ ” he whines, cementing his position as the child. She rolls her eyes.

“It takes a while to pretty up.”

“You don’t need to.”

_ +1 to Smoothness _

_ -1 to Impulse Control _

She bites her lip.

“See you in a few.”

As Caitlin turns to leave, Barry catches sight of her full-blown smile. His heart jumps. It’s not like the little half-smirks she allows whenever he or Cisco says something marginally funny. It’s a real, genuine, joyful smile.

Barry can’t think of the last time he’s seen her like that. He feels privileged, almost. Like this is a gift. Something just between the two of them. He got to see her smile genuinely, honestly, entirely.

_ Game over, man. You are done for. _

The voice isn’t wrong.

Barry grabs another strip bacon and chews on it thoughtfully.

_ I have feelings for Caitlin. _

The voice in his head is calmer now. More level. It’s not screaming, it’s just stating very plainly the truth.

He takes a deep breath.

“Barry!”

Because Cisco apparently can’t ever let him ponder important things in peace.

Barry opens his mouth but Cisco just keep going.

“Dude, dude, dude! You don’t even…” He throws his hands in the air dramatically, garnering a few odd looks from the inhabitants of the room. “Okay, I am so amped right now.”

“I can tell.” 

He takes the seat Caitlin occupied less than a minute prior.

“Cynthia kissed me!” he whisper-yells. Barry feels a smile creep onto his face.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” he offers a high five. Cisco fist-bumps it.

“So, like, do you want the deets?” He’s practically shaking he’s so excited.. Barry figures that he’s going to give him ‘the deets’ regardless. “You know what, I’m just gonna give you the deets.”

He chuckles.

“So y’know I was kinda going totally crazy last night ‘cause I didn’t get to kiss her yesterday.”

“What?” Barry snarks. “You were being totally reasonable and chill.”

“Save the sass for the end of class,” Cisco says.

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Too long,” he says. “But anyways, I didn’t sleep, like at all”—Barry has to suppress an eyeroll, because Cisco sure as hell slept better than he did—“so I got up really early this morning and went to her room.”

Barry raises an eyebrow.

“How early?”

“Like, 7 probably.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t kill you.”

“I guess she’s a morning person.”

Barry doesn’t see Cynthia being a morning person. Or an evening person. Or an any-time-of-the-day type person, But he lets Cisco continue regardless.

“So, like, I knocked on the door and when she opened up she looked so hot. Like, instant turn-on. Her bedhead looks super sexy and I can’t even—”

“I don’t think this is super relevant,” Barry interjects.

“You wanted the deets!”

“No I didn’t.”

“You don’t?”

Cisco gives him that kicked-puppy look and he’s immediately flooded with guilt.

“No, I mean, yeah, I want the deets,” he says. “Just… y’know, I don’t need to know  _ that, _ specifically.”

“Noted,” Cisco says. “So we’re just standing there in the hallway, and I say, ‘Hey, Cynthia, I really want to kiss you. Sorry if that’s weird but I’m super into you and—’ and then she just kisses me!”

Barry blinks at him.

“Seriously?”

“Yes!”

Barry blinks again.

“That worked?”

“I guess!”

“How?”

“I have no friggin’ idea, my dude. Oo, bacon.” He grabs a slice and nibbles on it. “Damn this is good.”

“Right?”

“But, like, I don’t even know why. Like, I thought she was gonna be angry or weirded out.”

Barry raises an eyebrow.

“Why’d you do it, then?”

“Dude, I was  _ dyyyyying. _ I was gonna explode.” He bites into another strip of bacon. “I’m so into her. Figured it’d be worth the risk, y’know?”

“Huh,” he says. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And it totally was. We made out for, like, hours.”

“Nice,” Barry says, hoping he’s not going to delve any deeper into that. “I’m really happy for you, Cisco.”

Cisco grins.

“Thanks,” he says. “Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Barry raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did! You were there for me, man. You were a good wingman.”

They share a smile.

“I’m glad I could help.”

Cisco stands up abruptly and grabs the plate of bacon.

“Gonna take this. Gypsy’s hungry,” he says with an eyebrow waggle.

“Uh-huh,” Barry says with an eyeroll.

“Y’know, cos we’re making out.”

“Yep.”

“Like a whole lot!” Cisco calls over his shoulder as he jogs out of the room.

Barry chuckles to himself as he gets out of his own seat, stretching. He feels a lot lighter. A lot more at ease.

_ Figured it’d be worth the risk, y’know? _

He considers Cisco’s words as he heads back to the room to get ready.

This is an awful idea. A terrible, friendship-ruining, idiotic idea. This is everything he was afraid of when he decided to come on this trip. 

And for once, he doesn’t care. 

It’s spring break. That’s what it’s for. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The last chance he has to be young and dumb and carefree. This is all he’s got.

And he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let it go to waste.


End file.
